


touch my tears with your lips

by technicallyataurus



Series: how big, how blue, how beautiful [3]
Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (2005), Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
Genre: Aliens, Angst, Arthur is adorable, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ford is awful with emotions, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Old Age, Panic Attacks, Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Trillian is a bro, Zaphod is almost a good person, but i've been working on it for months, difference in life spans, idk what compelled me to write this, no beta we die like men, this is big sad, very little fluff but it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 04:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19221670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technicallyataurus/pseuds/technicallyataurus
Summary: Who dares to love foreverOh, when love must die?





	touch my tears with your lips

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY PRIDE MOOOOOONNNNNTTTTHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ily all and am proud of u no matter if ur out and proud, in the closet, or an ally!! if u need someone to talk to or just vent to hmu on tumblr at https://technicallyataurus.tumblr.com/ !!! <3
> 
> This is... hm. idk why i wrote this, i was having a bit of a sad lady hour (read: three months). I have this little headcanon that soulmates are an important concept in Betelgeuesian culture, there's no real reasoning behind it, but it makes this story make a little more sense I guess?????
> 
> I meant to post this (and a chapter of Confusing These Days) much earlier, but I had a little hullaballoo going on at the end of this school year that set me back. Theennnnn I meant to update much earlier this week, but I'm on vacay in Florida and left my laptop charger at home, so I've done most of this on my phone (which I hate with a passion). Soooo sorry!!!! :) enough of my blabbering, here's the story! title from Who Wants to Live Forever by Queen, written by Brian May, lyrics from the same song.
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: highly inaccurate description of a panic attack (apologies, i'm a fool and idk how to write one), discussions of suicide, and basically a referenced suicide. please be safe! <3

Death, thought Ford, was a real bitch.

 

He’d always been aware of it, even knocked fervently on its door on more than one occasion (the time he had to jettison his favorite, irreplaceable shoes to a Vogon rocket launcher came to mind), but never before had he given death the amount of thought he had given it in the past ten or so seconds. When would he die? He wasn’t quite sure. Average lifespan on Betelgeuse V was about seven to eight hundred years, but that estimate depended on two key assumptions: 1-that one was of the native race of the planet and 2: that one remained on the planet for the majority of the duration of one’s life. Ford fit neither of these categories, and his father, a fellow from Betelgeuse VII, had died at a relatively young age, only about thirty years older than Ford’s current age. Ford had never even considered what his lifespan might be--until now.

 

“Ford? Come back, Ford, I’m sorry I upset you. Come back to me, yeah?” Arthur’s distressed voice snapped him out of his panic. He glanced up, locking eyes with Arthur.

 

“I’m back,” he said quietly. Feeling slowly seeped back into his limbs, his head going fuzzy. His eyes darted about the room and noted that he was backed against the wall next to their wardrobe, Arthur close in front of him. He didn't have these attacks often, but he'd had enough in the past to know that he'd be wanting a nap soon. Ford felt his body shake and belatedly realized that Arthur had a firm grip on his upper arms and was shaking him gently.

 

"Yeah?" said Arthur with a soft smile.

 

"Yeah." Ford stared at a stain on Arthur's pants. He knew he must be freaking Arthur out--he hadn't had one of these incidents since before he met Arthur, since before the Earth was destroyed. "I'm sorry."

 

"Don't--hey," Arthur bent to look Ford in the eye. "Don't apologize, Ford. It's alright. I get it, okay? It's not your fault, yeah?"

 

"How old are you?" Ford asked.

 

Arthur paused. "I'll be fourty next year," he admitted with a slight chuckle. "I'm getting old." Ford's eyes grew wider than they already were. "Does that freak you out? Ford, wait, how old are you?"

 

Ford shook his head. "Fourty--Fourty's not old. Right?" Arthur gave him a bizarre look. "It's not old, right? Please say it's not old, Arthur, I--" Ford's breath quickened again, his vision swimming as he began to ramble.

 

"Ford, calm down!" Arthur shook him again. "Ford, it's not, like, _old_ old! Just... why does it matter? I mean, I can't be that much older than you--"

 

"You're not."

 

"What?"

 

"I said you're not," Ford said. "What's your lifespan?"

 

Arthur looked at him in bewilderment, obviously doing the annoying-human-thing of paying attention to one part of a sentence but not the other. "You're older? Ford, how old are you?"

 

"What's your lifespan?"

 

"Ford--"

 

" _Arthur!_ " Ford shouted. Arthur flinched away from him, hands hovering near his sides, fingers twitching awkwardly as he bit his lip. "Please," Ford said, more gently, reaching out to grasp Arthur's unsure hands and pull them to his chest, "just tell me. Please." He pulled Arthur closer to him, swallowing hard and trying to convey the importance of this by squeezing Arthur's hands desperately.

 

Arthur was looking at him very strangely. "Ford, you need to sit down. Okay? I'll tell you if you sit down." He tried in vain to pull Ford towards the bed--they were currently pressed together, Ford's back pressed against the wardrobe. Ford yanked Arthur back, gripping his shoulders firmly and pulling him close enough to bury his head in Arthur's chest.

 

"Tell me."

 

Arthur was quiet for a moment. Ford knew how strangely he was behaving, but couldn't bring himself to care. His breath came quickly, erratically, and he wrapped his arms around Arthur, breathing his scent in deeply. After a beat, one of Arthur's hands gripped tightly onto Ford's hip while the other buried itself in Ford's hair and he rested his chin on Ford's head.

 

"Well," Arthur, began, sucking in a breath, "If I go by my father, how long he lived... he died at sixty-five. So, uh, around twenty-five more years, give or take. That is if we don't get killed before then," Arthur joked. Ford could feel Arthur's chest rumble under his fingers as he laughed.

 

Ford did not laugh. He went stiff in Arthur's arms, breath halting. Arthur obviously noticed this but thankfully didn't comment. Instead, his laughter ceased immediately and he pulled Ford closer, shuffling so Ford was trapped between him and the wall. Ford pressed his ear to Arthur's chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

 

Twenty-five years. That was all the time Arthur had left to live. And he sounded so at peace with it, like it was expected that he would die at least two hundred years before Ford. He couldn't imagine life without Arthur--he knew logically that he had lived a long time before ever meeting Arthur, and he could, though not happily, live without him again. 

 

But as Arthur dropped a tender kiss to the top of his head, Ford wasn't quite sure he wanted to.

 

"Ford?" Arthur said gently.

 

"Huh?" Ford responded coherently, digging his fingers into Arthur's shoulders, wanting him closer, as close as possible.

 

"Are you dying?" Arthur asked. Then his chest shook, followed by his shoulders, then an audible sob escaped his lips. "Ford, are you dying?"

 

This snapped Ford out of his thoughts and he picked his head up to look up at Arthur. Tears were slipping down his cheeks quickly, and his lower lip was quivering as he worried it with his teeth, evidently trying to keep it together. It was not the first time Ford had seen Arthur cry, but it was the first time Arthur had been so open about it, not even hiding his face or wiping his eyes.

 

"A-a-answer me, F-Ford," Arthur stuttered around a sob, voice sounding choked, "a-are y-you dying?"

 

"No! No, Arthur I--no." Ford stroked Arthur's chest in what he hoped was a soothing way. "Nobody's dying." Ford paused. "Well, somebody, somewhere, is most certainly dying. Lots of somebodies, in fact. But not us. Currently."

 

Ford was surprised when Arthur giggled tearily, then burst out laughing, wiping his eyes and looking away from Ford. "How do you always--nevermind. God." He giggled again, prompting a concerned look from Ford. "I'm getting hysterical over nothing, like one of those bloody soap opera women." He reached out and pulled Ford in for a hug, burying his head in his hair. "You scared me shitless."

 

"I'm sorry," said Ford, wrapping his arms around Arthur, who slid his hands down to grip Ford's hips tightly. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just--you know, species from different parts of the galaxy can have vastly different lifespans, I once dated a girl whose lifespan was only two and a half days, she was only in her mature, sexually active phase for two hours--"

 

"Ours aren't, right?"

 

"What?"

 

"Our lifespans," murmured Arthur, "They aren't different, right? You're not going to up and die in like five years, right?"

 

"Of course I won't," said Ford. _But you will_ , went unsaid. Ford decided they would cross that bridge when they came to it. For now, he just wanted to hold Arthur as close as he could without crying.

 

He didn't quite achieve that; as he and Arthur made love later that night (Ford hated that phrase, but he couldn't describe it in any better way--the experience of being with one's other half, one's soulmate, in that manner was one no language Ford had encountered could come close to describing), tears had begun to roll down his cheeks as his body was racked with sobs that were a mix of bodily pleasure and emotional pain. Arthur, thankfully, hadn't stopped, had merely slowed the pace of his hips and adjusted his position over Ford to better kiss away his tears.

 

***

 

Ford managed to mostly forget about the issue for the years he had remaining with Arthur; he was only reminded of it if he thought too long on Arthur's hair, which was steadily turning a vibrant silver, or the noticeable wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes and mouth and--well, just about everywhere, really. Ford's own hair remained its vibrant red, and though his hairline was receding, it was doing so at such a rate that Arthur hardly noticed.

 

When he did pass, it was a wholly depressing ordeal. Trillian and Zaphod showed up, somehow, and ruined the whole event. Trillian, with her brilliant mane of dark gray hair still shrouded by a colourful hijab, was still impressively fit and had aged beautifully and gracefully. The hair on Zaphod's left head had become a stark white, which Ford was quick to point out after his own hairline became the focal point of Zaphod's usual teasing.

 

Worst of all was Trillian's insistence that Ford be there for the end. He knew it was cowardly, but he had sort of planned to not really be there when Arthur passed. Arthur was someone he had never really pitied, and he didn't want his final memories of him to be of heart-wrenching, pathetic gasping and then pitiful, pitiful silence. But Trillian kept dutiful watch; if Ford slipped out of the room, even to take a piss, she would follow him and make sure he came back. She never said anything, just stood and stared at him with undecipherable eyes.

 

She finally confronted him when she caught him trying to sneak out of the house through a window. She dragged him back through it by the ankle and deposited him on his arse, staring him down.

 

"You," she began, "have seen him on the verge of death several times. Earth, Agrajag, the weird bit with Slartibartfast, Earth again." Ford stared blankly back at her. "What's so different about this time?"

 

Ford swallowed drily. "It's just..." he looked away from her, picking at his nails. "Different." Ford closely examined Trillian's boots. They had a bit of green soil on them; Ford racked his brain for all the planets he knew of that had green soil. About thirty came to mind.

 

"Why? Ford, look at me." He looked at her shoulder. He thought briefly that he had seen that shirt she was wearing in a store maybe a year ago. "No, Ford. At me." He looked at her other shoulder. "Look me in the eyes." With much effort, he did so. Her eyes were surprisingly gentle, not as harsh as normal. "Why is it different now?"

 

Ford blinked. "I don't know. I don't know! Okay? I just--" he groaned, throwing his arms about frantically-- "I can't... do... I don't know."

 

Trillian studied him for a moment. It was intimidating, the way her eyes narrowed and fingers drummed on her arm as she gazed at him silently. Her fingers stopped drumming and her eyes widened slightly. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and Ford thought he caught a flash of pity in her expression before she said quietly, "It's because you can't save him."

 

Trillian held him as he cried, slumped over in the little hallway in the house which led to the master bedroom. After he calmed down a bit, he relaxed into her grip, pressing his head into her shoulder and being rewarded with a gentle hand tangling in his hair, gently carding through tangled red curls.

 

From the quiet hallway, they could hear Zaphod and Arthur talking quietly with each other. Ford wondered what they could be talking about--Zaphod was uncharacteristically subdued, and Arthur (surprisingly) didn't seem mortally offended by anything Zaphod had said to him.

 

"I wonder what they're talking about," Trillian murmured, echoing Ford's thoughts. Ford merely hummed in response. "Zaphod's calmed down a bit, you know? I mean, he's still a total crackhead sometimes, but he's much more relaxed. Not as prone to his... usual antics."

 

Ford hummed again. "I hope no one ever says that about me." He tilted his head back 'til it knocked against the wall, staring intently at a little dent on the wall across from where they sat. He tried to remember where the dent came from, but the effort proved futile.

 

Trillian broke his concentration. "You don't want anyone to call you a part-time crackhead?" She laughed quietly, a smooth, calming sound.

 

Ford pulled a face. "No," he said bitterly, "I hope no one ever says I've calmed down." He briefly registered the voices in the bedroom rising in volume before Trillian laughed again, snorting slightly.

 

"Yes, I suppose I can understand that," she said through giggles.

 

"Ford!" A weak shout came from Arthur's room. Ford was on his feet before he realized it, rushing to the bedroom, flinging the door open--

 

Arthur gazed at him, brows creased, looking vaguely annoyed. "Would you get your shithead cousin out of here? He's verbally assaulting me on my deathbed."

 

Ford breathed a sigh of relief. "That's semi-cousin to you," he quipped, making his way over to Arthur's bedside with what he was sure was a disgustingly fond grin. He sat in a chair next to Zaphod, who glanced at him with a twinkle in his eyes.

 

"He called me an old decrepit monkey!" Arthur croaked in outrage. "I don't know what your customs are on Betelgeuse, but back on Earth we gave people a good send-off, we didn't wave them off into the unknown with-with-"

 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, kid," said Zaphod. "You're not the only one I'm giving a hard time, yeah?" He turned abruptly to Ford and said flatly, "You look like shit."

 

Ford squawked indignantly and made a show of chasing Zaphod out of the room, delighting in the adorable, if wheezy, giggles coming from Arthur. Ford shooed Zaphod off to join a smiling Trillian in the hallway, slamming the door on his triumphant face. Ford grinned right back, before turning around and realizing he was now alone with Arthur.

 

Sometimes he wondered if Zaphod was smarter than he let on.

 

"Zaphod told me, you know," said Arthur, previous giggles gone, a sad, pinched look on his face that strained Ford's heart to see. He wanted nothing more than to run; run as far as his legs would take him and then some. Instead, he bit his lip, dug his heels in, and nodded.

 

"Traitorous bastard," he said quietly, without any real force behind it.

 

Arthur chewed his lip. "This--um. This is rather silly, really, but I, erm, I wrote something? Don't read it yet--you don't have to read it at all, but if you do just... wait. Until after," Arthur stammered out nervously. He held out a small white envelope to Ford. Ford hesitated, then took it slowly, gingerly, not wanting to bend the envelope or what was inside at all. Arthur smiled tentatively at him. "I want you to, y'know... have fun. Once I'm gone." He coughed slightly, but Ford couldn't discern if it was from illness or awkwardness. "So go travel the galaxy again, maybe pay a visit to that Eccentrica Gallumbits woman you were always going on about."

 

Ford laughed hoarsely and bit his tongue before he could say anything sappy like 'You're my only one.' "You know, I heard she had some inter-species STD," he said instead, and judging by the brief smile on Arthur's face, he saw right through Ford.

 

Arthur dutifully pulled a face at the STD joke. "Then maybe don't." He coughed again--Ford shakily made his way over to his bedside and handed him the glass of water that was just out of Arthur's reach. "Just--" he coughed harder, taking a sip of water. Ford's hearts twitched oddly. "Don't do anything... silly, o-or rash, okay? Promise me?"

 

Ford swallowed hard a few times. Arthur was looking right through his defenses--he had never been wonderful at reading Ford, but he was excelling at it in his final moments. The intensity of Arthur's gaze was making it difficult for Ford to find his voice, but he managed.

 

"Promise," Ford croaked finally, hoping Arthur would not notice the tears spilling over his already swollen, bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks as he spoke.

 

Arthur smiled shakily at him and Ford remembered the night so many years ago when he had first said "I love you," to Arthur, not quite knowing what it meant, but knowing he would say it hundreds more times if it would make Arthur smile like that again.

 

He said it then, holding Arthur's shaky, wrinkled hand. He whispered it as Zaphod and Trillian crowded around as well. He repeated it after, still clutching Arthur's cooling hand.

 

He said it to Zaphod and Trillian later, quiet enough that he figured they wouldn't hear it. He let out a sob when they repeated it back.

 

He never said it again.

 

***

 

_Ford, my dear,_

 

_I have, as I'm sure you know and expected, no fucking clue what I'm doing. What the hell do you write in the letter which will become your final words? I've no clue. I'm sure you would know. You always know what to say._

 

_I think I know what you would say, were you me. You'd crack jokes, tell me to drink my sorrows away. You'd try and be unexpected, try and cheer me up, you were always so good at that. And I know that's what you're going to try when my time comes. You'll try to convince me that you'll be fine, that I shouldn't worry about you, and then you'll do something so amazingly stupid it will distract me from the pain of leaving you so soon._

 

_But I know you better than you think, Ford. That's why I am worried. Because I know you're going to, inevitably, try and get yourself killed when I'm gone. And God, Ford, you must know how it hurts me to know that. Just as it hurts you that you can't save me from my fate, it pains me that I know I can't save you from yours. I'm going to do my best to keep you from it, but ultimately, it's up to you. It's your decision entirely--me? or your own life?_

 

_Many years ago, I think perhaps you would have chosen life. Many, many years ago. I must admit, I'm not sure, though. You risked your life several times over to save mine. But still, I think maybe you could have gotten over it more easily, back then. I think you could have gotten over it._

 

_Oh, how much easier would your life have been, had you never met me? Don't get offended, consider it. I mean, without me involved, you could have gotten off the Earth, no strings attached, gotten Zaphod to drop you off somewhere fun, and gone on drinking and fucking your way around the galaxy. No silly old me there to muck anything up._

 

_I wonder if you would have been happier. Your life would have been easier in some ways, but I'm not sure if you would have--_ could _have been happier, without someone to talk to, to rely on, to... well, to love._

 

_But at this point there's no real use pondering hypotheticals. It's a waste of my limited time. I wonder if I should cross out what I wrote about that. No. Then it'd really be a waste of time._

 

_I want to assure you that I'm somewhere better--or that I will be--but I know that it would be as meaningless to you as it is to me. Neither of us has ever been particularly inclined to believe in an afterlife--rather odd, considering our impressive shared total of near-death experiences._

 

_I feel silly writing this. I don't think, in all honesty, you will even read it unless you are forced (in which case, hello Trillian! tell Zaphod he's a massive git). Where the hell do you put the period in that sentence? In or out of the parentheses? Eh, no matter. All my grammar teachers are dead anyway._

 

_There's so much more I want to write. There's so much that I can't. Ford, I need you to understand one thing for me. Just the one._

 

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you had to be the one to live. But damn, am I so glad it was. It's selfish, I know. But that's what we are, yeah? Selfish? All the love stories say that love makes you less selfish. For some people, I suppose it does. Not us though, huh? We're just two selfish pricks in love._

 

_Okay, I lied. You need to remember two things. (If anyone other than Ford is reading at this point, please stop. You might be constipated for the rest of your life with how cheesy this is going to get. Ford, you bastard, this is your fault, so you have to read it.) Ford, you need to understand just one more thing._

 

_I love you. We don't say it often, on principle, but I love you. I love you so much, Ford, I don't think you understand it. But I need you to._

 

_I'm crying now. The good kind, though. The kind of crying I sometimes do during sex. Or when we're kissing. Or when you smile at me, your real smile, soft and unguarded and oh-so-happy. I'm crying how I cry when I wake up first and I get to see your face while you're sleeping, relaxed, trusting,_ loving _. I'm crying how I cry when I remember that even after all these years, all our fights, everything we've been through,_ you still love me _. That's how I'm crying. That's why I'm crying. Ford, I love you. I love you. I love you._

 

_Goodbye, Ford. I don't know if this is the end, but God, I hope it isn't._

 

_I love you, Starman._

 

_\--your partner, your soulmate, your Earthman,_

 

_Arthur Prefect-Dent_

 

 

***

 

Suicide was, in Ford's humble opinion, the absolute least hoopy thing in the known universe. Or, in the words of his late love, rather silly and rash. Basically, he had promised Arthur he wouldn't commit suicide. And this was one promise Ford was determined not to break.

 

However, if working for the _Guide_ had taught him anything, it was how to find a loophole.

 

So instead of committing suicide, Ford scoured the _Guide_ and _Encyclopedia Galactica_ alike for the most fun, dangerous activity in the galaxy, partook in it, and went out like the damn hoopy frood he was.

 

He had never considered he might have to deal with a rather cross Arthur in the afterlife, however. In fact, the whole afterlife thing was a wee bit of a surprise.

 

Ford's eyes blinked open (another surprise, he had been rather certain he wouldn't have been doing _that_ again anytime soon) and were met with a rather ordinary looking brown door. Ford squinted at it; the light was painfully bright and he felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. He tried to survey the area around him, but all he could see was more blinding light. He turned his focus back to the door, which mocked him in its mediocrity. He hadn't remembered this being a part of the side effects of the wondrous stunt he had pulled before his death, but--

 

Ah. His death. Right. That would explain a few things. Like the fuzziness of his senses and the blinding light and how he felt as if he were floating.

 

What it didn't explain, however, was the door.

 

Never one to shy away from the unknown, Ford reached up and knocked.

 

He heard some scrambling from behind the door before it swung open, and Ford blinked at the face he had thought he'd never see again.

 

"Who the fu--oh," said Arthur, much younger than when Ford had seen him last. In fact, Arthur looked younger than Ford remembered him ever looking; his face was free of any wrinkles, any dark circles, any stress. He almost didn't look like himself, and Ford panicked until he saw the very slight acne scarring on his chin and cheek that Ford had always found so endearing.

 

"Surprise?" Ford said with a nervous grin, shocked at how much younger he sounded.

 

Arthur blinked rapidly at Ford, brows creasing suddenly in confusion, and Ford almost laughed at how that made him look much more like the Arthur Ford remembered. Then Arthur cocked a hip, placed a hand on it, and leveled Ford with a glare that suddenly made Ford feel very small.

 

"Now I don't know how the hell time passes in the afterlife, but it sure as hell hasn't been two hundred bloody years!" Arthur began. He opened his mouth to say something more, but all that came out was a very choked off whine. He waved a hand at Ford in a way that seemed to be meant to be indignant but didn't quite make it. "I... you..." Ford looked at him expectantly. Arthur sighed. "Why don't you come inside? I've just made tea."

 

Ford slipped through the doorway, shoulder oh-so-close to brushing Arthur's chest, but not quite managing. He stopped for a moment as he took in the surroundings of the room he was now in and realized he was in Arthur's house on Earth.

Arthur busied himself with pouring tea, calling out to Ford to "Make yourself at bloody home, I suppose," no trace of anxiety or self-doubt evident in the line of his shoulders or the way he walked. This Arthur seemed inherently relaxed and carefree; how Ford had always liked him best when he—when _they_ were still alive.

Ford perched nervously on the edge of the gray couch he had always hated, finding it to be much more comfortable than he remembered. He thanked Arthur as he accepted his cup of tea, noticing the flush that spread slowly across Arthur’s cheeks. Arthur settled into the armchair across from the couch, primly stirring his tea and taking a long sip. “So,” said Arthur, “how long has it been?” 

“Ten years,” tried Ford, taking a sip of his own tea. 

“Bullshit,” Arthur said simply. 

Ford winced. “Five years?” Arthur raised an eyebrow pointedly. Ford sucked in a breath through his teeth. 

“Erm,” he said, “about… two weeks?” 

Arthur stared at him for a beat, then drew in a big breath. “You couldn’t even go two weeks without killing yourself?” He said bluntly, taking another gulp of tea. 

Ford chewed on his lip. “Well, it would have been sooner if Zaphod and Trillian had bloody left me alone. They wouldn't leave!” 

“You know that doesn’t make it any better, right?” 

Ford stared into his tea. “Well,” he said,” you should be flattered, really.” 

“Flattered?” Arthur nearly shouted. 

“Yes!” Said Ford. “I would think it to be rather flattering that I couldn’t live without you!” 

“Well it’s bloody _not_!” Arthur shouted again. He seemed taken aback for a moment, taking a deep breath and settling back into his chair. “Ford, what the hell did I tell you?” 

__

__“Mmmm, I don’t recall, you know, you told me lots of things when we were alive—“_ _

__

__“For the love of all things holy, Ford, I thought I told you not to do anything silly and rash!” Arthur interrupted, leveling Ford with a glare that wasn’t nearly as venomous as Arthur intended. “And then you went and-and—“_ _

__

__“I didn’t do anything silly and rash!” Ford argued, setting his tea down._ _

__

__“Oh?” Arthur arched an eyebrow._ _

__

__“Nope!” Ford grinned widely. “I did something _stupid_ and rash!”__

___ _

___Arthur stared. Then he blinked. Looked Ford up and down. Glanced off to the side, then up at the ceiling. Ford realized suddenly that Arthur was blinking back tears._ _ _

___ _

___“Look,” Arthur said shakily, “I’m a bit upset about that.”_ _ _

___ _

___Ford was embarrassed to feel his own eyes prick with tears. “Yes,” he whispered, “I suppose I can understand that.”_ _ _

___ _

___They stared at each other for a moment longer. “You look good,” Arthur croaked, looking Ford up and down once more. “Very fit. Full head of hair.”_ _ _

___ _

___Ford ran a hand through his hair and realized that his hairline was no longer receding. He glanced down at himself to see that he was more fit than he had been when he died; he was young, thin as a rail, leanly muscled, wearing his favorite old _Disaster Area_ crop top and jeans. He looked as he did in the prime of his life.__ _

____ _ _

____“Speak for yourself,” he said to Arthur, “you look damn handsome.” Arthur blinked in surprise. “What,” said Ford, “is there not a mirror in this place?”_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____“Erm, no, now that you mention it, there isn’t,” said Arthur, glancing down at himself, then back up at Ford._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____“Guess you’ll just have to take my word for it,” said Ford._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____Arthur chuckled. “Guess so.”_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____They stared again. Arthur had a wistful look on his face, a faint smile tugging at his lips._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____“I’m sorry it had to be like this,” Ford croaked. “I’m sorry I didn’t-I didn’t tell you it would happen this way. I just… didn’t want you to spend the little time we had left worrying about me, and-and what I'd do... after.” he stared at the carpet as he said this, slowly, not daring to look at Arthur._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____“Ford,” Arthur said after a while. “Look at me.” Ford did so, with much difficulty. “Thank you,” he said, “Ford, thank you for making those years so wonderful.” Ford’s eyes began to well up again, and he sniffed. “Thank you for not telling me. Because you’re right, I would have worried.” Tears streamed openly down Ford’s face now, and Arthur looked to be not far off. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone,” Arthur choked out. He then stood, a weak smile on his face. “Now come here, Ford.”_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____Ford stood shakily, wiping his face frantically. He shuffled over to Arthur, who opened his arms wide for a hug. Ford paused about a foot away. He glanced up at Arthur, at the tall, awkward Earthman he fell in love with, who he spent the final years of his life with, who he watched grow and change and smile and laugh and cry and live and die, who accepted his drinking habits and feral grin happily, who loved him right up until the end, and now, even in death, still looked at him as if Ford had hung the stars. Ford looked up at him, then fell into his arms with a sob, shoulders heaving as his lover, his soulmate, his best friend held him close and pressed a kiss to his hair.__ _ _

_____ _ _ _

_____Arthur shushed him gently, rocking him back and forth. “It’s okay, Ford,” he said. “There’s no time limit now. I’m not going anywhere.” A hand came up to pet Ford’s hair. “I’ll be here with you, for eternity. If you’ll have me.”_ _ _ _ _

_____ _ _ _

_____Ford pulled back to look up at Arthur. He went to say something but opted instead to stretch up for a kiss, a teary, messy, loving kiss that had him quivering from head to toe._ _ _ _ _

_____ _ _ _

_____As time went on in the universe, as planets collided, stars collapsed, galaxies were formed, wars were fought and won and life expanded and evolved, Ford and Arthur lived in frozen time, enjoying each other’s company, as they had in life, for the remainder of eternity._ _ _ _ _

_____ _ _ _

_____And if Zaphod Beeblebrox and Trillian Astra thought that perhaps they knew the explanation behind the sudden formation of a pair of binary stars in a spot in the universe where it should have been impossible, well, they certainly wouldn’t say._____

**Author's Note:**

> hehe! i hope that the formatting is okay, if there's a mistake pls let me know!!! italics just was not working for me when I was trying to format this, I was going to include song lyrics at the end but....... I got too frustrated after 45 minutes of failed formatting lol, sorry. 
> 
> i encourage you to yell at me in the comments it makes me happy! love y'all! <3


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